The Price of a Lie
by Clarity's Illusions
Summary: I will never stop running. For the rest of my life I will hide in the shadows, always careful to cover my tracks, always taking care to remain invisible and easily forgotten. My life as Bella Swan is over. I told a lie and changed everything forever...but they're safe now. And that's worth all the sacrifice. (Sequel to The Cost of Keeping The Secret!)
1. Prologue

**And here is the prologue for the sequel to Cost of Keeping A Secret! Just a little something to tease you with...chapter one up next week. **

* * *

Death comes.

It's a shadow, creeping along behind you. Hiding in the dark alleys as you walk home on Saturday nights. It waits on the thin ice in the center of the pond, ready to grab your skates and jerk you down into the icy depths when you venture too close.

It hides in the mud on the side of the road, in the blood on the windshield, glittering in the glass that lies around you like a macabre guardian. It falls with the silent rain, cleansing your face for the last time.

It's a silent hunter, a deadly tracker, a vengeful striker.

There are those who cheat it, who seem to always be one step ahead of it. I know; I used to be one of those people – but no more.

Death comes, and it has finally found me.


	2. Man of His Word

**This chapter was SO hard to write; I had to cover so much emotion from so many people. Let me know if I got it right, or if I just need to rewrite it!**

**I also need to warn you that updates will be sporadic during the month of November -I'll be participating in NaNoWriMo, but I'll be back in business by December!**

**The song is by Collin Raye; It's called Man of My Word.**

* * *

_I'm a man of my word; I mean what I say_

_My pledge is my bond, that's just my way_

_When you've made a promise, to someone who's gone_

_That's when forever seems a little too long._

I had never known grief like this.

I had deluded myself before into believing I had; that every feeble tendril of agony would surely squeeze my dead heart in two. But in truth, it hadn't even been able to come close. My grieving had never been without the faint vestiges of hope. Not when I thought James had killed her; not when I lied and told her I didn't love her. Not even when Rosalie had called and told me she was dead. Even then, the grief was incomparable, because even then I had known I would be joining her soon.

I didn't have that, now. I wanted to die. I wanted it with everything in me. But she had made me promise, and my promises to her were sacred now.

Against my will I remembered coming home to the terrible scene. A vampire's perfect memory can be considered either a blessing or a curse; I was convinced now more than ever that it was, after all, a curse. For the rest of my life I would have to remember what had greeted us upon our return.

"_There's no point, Edward. We looked for hours. Embry, Quil, Paul...Jacob…we all looked. The sea does not give up its dead. I'm sorry."_

_I looked at Sam in disbelief. "How can you say that? Why aren't you still looking?"_

_In the end it had taken both Carlisle and Emmett, coupled with Jasper's calming influence, to drag me away from the coast. Away from the mangled hunk of metal that had been Bella's prized possession. _

_Even after it sank in I had trouble believing it. All I could picture was her out there, in the cold embrace of the sea, frail and shivering and waiting for me to rescue her. Even after Renee arrived, red-eyed and needy, helping Charlie with funeral arrangements…_

Oh, God, how was I ever going to make it through her funeral? It would finalize it somehow, make it achingly, heart-wrenchingly clear that Bella was gone forever this time.

**Carlisle:**

We filed into the little church, each of us wanting nothing more than to be somewhere else. The smell of sadness and too many flowers choked the air, but none of us got up to leave. We owed it to Charlie and Renee to be here – Bella, too.

Esme sat on my other side, her hand wound tightly in mine. Her grief knew no bounds; for the second time in her existence she had lost a child. I had not had to face such a trial before. And now, this pain tearing across my heart, I could finally understand why she had tried to end her life when her baby son lost his battle.

As the preacher stood up to speak, I glanced over at Edward. He sat with his head in his hands, staring at the floor. Jasper sat as far away from him as he could, but I could see our emotions reflected on his face. We'd all told him he didn't have to come. But he'd insisted, and I admired him for that.

Alice's gaze was blank more often than not; I knew she was searching for any hint that Edward would try running off to Italy again. We'd all have to work to keep him here until the worst of the grief had passed, but keep him here we would. I couldn't let this family be split apart any more than it already had been.

Esme leaned against my shoulder, and I squeezed her hand a little tighter. I had to be strong. For all of them. Somehow, we would make it through this.

* * *

"Son," I said quietly.

We were the only two left at the fresh grave, looking down at the stark headstone as the rain sprinkled down lightly. Jasper had had to take Alice home; she was taking this so hard. Esme and the others had given us some time.

He looked at me, tormented eyes red-rimmed, as if he could cry. "I know this is horrible timing, but I've got to know…" I thought it at him, finding it easier to let him pull it out of my mind than to actually say it out loud.

He didn't seem surprised, looking back down at the grave. A few minutes passed in silence before he looked back at me. "No," he said quietly, and I felt relief rush through me. "I made her a promise once. It's the least I can do to keep it…"

I held him as he broke down. How were we going to make it? How could we survive without Bella?

In only a few short months she had become part of our family, part of us. It was as if a physical piece of me had been ripped away.

Later, when we were all back at the house, I called a family meeting. Everyone, even Rosalie, was subdued as I asked if they wanted to move away from here.

To my surprise, Edward shook his head. "No. I don't. I think Bella…." He faltered slightly as he said her name, "would want us to take care of Charlie. At least for awhile. Besides," he had to stop and compose himself, "It feels better around her memories. Closer."

All around the room heads were nodding in agreement with Edward. Feeling a sense of relief of my own, I said quietly, "That's settled, then."

After another few minutes of awkward silence, my family slowly dispersed. Alice and Jasper walked slowly to the edge of the woods, and I through the window I saw him take her hands in his and lay his forehead against hers.

Rosalie and Emmett joined them after a few minutes, and together they all faded into the trees. I was grateful to them for giving me this time, though I felt selfish for needing it. My loss was not nearly as great as Edward's, after all, but I still felt Bella's death keenly.

Esme's arms were welcome. "Edward's gone to speak to Charlie," she whispered, her voice full of anguish – both hers and shared. "It's all right, my love. They're all gone."

She knew me so well. I turned my face into her hair, horrified at the sounds ripping from my mouth, the racking sobs that shook us both. I had no more strength left to fight it; I gave myself over completely to my grief.

Bella was dead; how could anything ever be right again?

After that day, we settled into something of a lifeless routine again. Scarcely two weeks after her funeral, I received a letter from Italy that puzzled me to no end, but we finally agreed, sadly, that Aro had been referring to the problem of her humanity.

It said simply, _Well done._

* * *

Time passed unmercifully; the defeated summer faded slowly into quiet autumn, a brief calm before winter blew in with a vengeance. Still we grieved, living in an endless night, waiting for dawn to break over our lives again.

It was a desperate and futile hope.

* * *

He can still feel her sometimes.

Especially in their meadow, when the sun is shining and sparkling like a million tiny diamonds in his skin, when the scent of the fresh summer grass surrounds him. Sitting cross-legged in the center, he smiles, seeing her in front of him. Her touch whispers through his hair, caresses his lips. I love you.

Then he opens his eyes again, and he is alone.

He goes to her bedroom every now and then, late at night when Charlie is sleeping. It still smells of her, and that is a priceless gift to him. He lies on her bed for hours, seeing her in the shadows, feeling her beside him. Sometimes the grief threatens to drive him mad, but he gets past it. He goes on with life, because that's what he promised her.

And if he is nothing else, he's a man of his word.

* * *

_And if that promise, was the last thing you heard…well you know I kept it, I'm a man of my word._


	3. Starting Over

**Hey, I managed another chapter before the novel-writing madness commenced! **

* * *

**"_I'm just not ever going to forget you, am I?"_**

_Dream-Bella only smiled. _

_God, I hated dreaming about her. It was only just beginning to sink in that I had lost her just as completely as everyone else had. _

* * *

**Jacob:**

It had been three weeks since the funeral.

I tried to stay away from the Cullens, at least out of reading range of Edward, but it was inevitable that I saw them in town – at least from a distance.

They were trying, that much was obvious. It reminded me of Bella, after the leeches left her. I had been forced to watch her go through the motions just as I was forced to watch them, now. I couldn't conjure up any more malice towards the Cullens. I just felt sorry for them now.

They were trying so hard it physically hurt me to watch.

When Billy told me that Charlie and Sue were getting married quietly and had extended an invitation to him to live with them, since Sue was a nurse, it just seemed like the next step for me to leave. It was better that way, since it was growing ever harder to keep my thoughts from both my pack brothers and the Cullens. I didn't want to stay here anyway, watching Bella's family – both of them – grieve so hard over her. I wondered sometimes if, somewhere out there alone, she was wasting away just like she did when Edward left…just like he was wasting away right now.

But I couldn't dwell on that; I couldn't do anything about it anyway.

It was with a mixture of relief and guilt that I left Forks behind for good.

**Bella:**

* * *

_I hit the ground running in Denver._

_I only stopped for air when I was outside the terminal, half certain the Cullens would have found me out and were even now going to come bursting out of the airport after me._

_And a part of me desperately hoped they would._

_After it became clear that no such thing was going to happen, I trudged off to a nearby coffee shop to regroup. First things first, I thought, I have to make some sort of long-term plan…_

* * *

I found it by accident one drizzly, miserable morning. My wanderings had taken me to Tennessee, a place I deemed far enough – and sunny enough – they would never find me.

I promptly got lost, of course, somewhere far from civilization. My new GPS proved no help. I tossed it out the window in a sudden fit of anger after it told me to turn left off a cliff, then immediately regretted it. _Why did I come out here anyway? _I found myself wondering. Colorado had been too close, not sunny enough. After buying a car and several changes of clothes, I'd just started driving. And driving. And finally ended up in Tennessee.

After another half-hour of driving in the light rain, my gas gauge moving dangerously close to empty, I stumbled onto the little town. _Three Pines, Tennessee, _the beat-up sign read.

I pulled into the only service station in town, where the attendant actually offered to pump the gas for me. "Thanks," I said, letting him, while I wandered inside to get a Coke.

"Is there a good place to stay here?" I asked, glancing over a couple of dusty brochures. The man behind the counter gave me an assessing glance, no doubt wondering what a teenaged girl was doing in a isolated place like this alone.

The pain hit me out of nowhere. Darn my mind for making me remember. I flinched, trying to ignore it, trying to shove the memories back where they belonged – in that little locked box at the back of my mind.

"You all right?" he asked, eyeing me as if afraid I would crumple to the floor. It was a valid fear, I admitted to myself, but managed to regain control. "Sure," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He returned to my earlier question with one more skeptical look. "A place to stay…there's the Grande Hotel, just down the road a ways…"

I interrupted him. "No, I mean a permanent place."

Now he really looked interested, and I figured gossip would be flying by tonight. I questioned my sanity for a second – I'd lived in a small town for so long. I knew there was no such thing as privacy, and yet…

"Well, I know there's a little cabin for sale up the mountain a ways, but it's pretty rustic," he said doubtfully. "Think it's got plumbing and wiring, but I'm not for sure. There's not many people around up there."

It sounded perfect. "Who would I contact about that?"

He glanced out the window, no doubt taking in my expensive car, which fanned the flames of his curiosity even higher. "Tom Byrd, just down past the bank, has the key."  
"Thank you," I said, handing him the money for the gas and the Coke.

"Have a good'un," he called automatically, and I felt his gaze on my back as I walked to my car and climbed in.

I cruised slowly down the street, ignoring the last vestiges of pain tugging at my heart. It was so much like Forks. There were all of two police cars parked at the station. A couple of outdoor cafés. A bank, a church. There was a small doctor's office, with _Lucas Gable, M.D. _featured prominently on the sign. A larger ER sprawled a little ways down the road, but I doubted it got much attention.

I found the realtor's office right where the gas station man had said it would be. Parking the car, I locked the doors out of habit and started up the walk.

"I'm up here, ma'am!" called a very mellow baritone, startling me into dropping my purse and spilling the contents all over the damp sidewalk.

As I scrambled to pick it up, thanking the heavens my cash supply – I really needed to do something about that – had stayed intact and out of sight, a short, burly man hopped nimbly down from the low end of the slanted roof. "Sorry about that, ma'am, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just looking over some repair work."

I blinked at him, standing up slowly. "Hello, I'm Bella Swan," I finally said, extending a hand. He shook it enthusiastically. "Thomas Byrd," he said, "But everyone calls me Tom. Now, what can I do for a pretty young thing like you?"

Despite his eccentricities I found myself drawn to him. He was balding, lacked a tan and looked as if he hadn't done manual labor in years, but something about his ready smile and sincere green eyes drew me in. "I came about the cabin up the mountain?"

"Ah yes, the Martin place," he said, holding the door open for me to go inside. It was chilly inside, even cooler than the damp fall air, and I shivered involuntarily, wishing I'd brought my jacket. He didn't seem to notice the chill. Seating himself behind the expansive desk, he laced in fingers in front of him and looked at me expectantly.

I sat down in the chair across from him, suddenly unsure of myself. "Is it livable?" I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Oh yes," he assured me eagerly. "It's been sitting up there, vacant, for almost two months, but it's certainly livable. Carl Martin lived there for forty years before he died, and he kept it up meticulously."

"Can you show it to me?" I asked.

"Sure can," he said. "When did you have in mind?"

"We can go now, if you have the time."

"Let me just lock up," he said, bounding from his chair and grabbing a set of keys. I followed at a slower pace, smiling. Thomas Byrd was certainly a character.

"Why don't you just ride with me?" he offered, "there's no use in taking both vehicles, and you don't know the way."

I should have probably been wary about the arrangement, but I shrugged and climbed in with him. He certainly didn't look like a threat, and I still had the pepper spray in my purse that Charlie had insisted –

I felt the tears spring into my eyes, the pain gnawing at the edges of my chest. I pulled my sunglasses on quickly, thankful for the feeble rays of sunlight that gave me an excuse. Tom was rambling on about the attributes of the cabin, and I was able to compose myself while he backed out of the space and headed down the road.

After about ten minutes on the highway, he turned down a back road. That slowly morphed into little more than a four-wheeler trail that obviously hadn't been used in a while. Thick woods surrounded us as we bumped along, kicking up a good bit of dust, and I wondered again at my sanity.

But if I were going to question my sanity I should have started a long time ago. _No use worrying about my mental health now, _I decided, bracing myself on the door handle after a particularly deep pothole.

After about twenty minutes he pulled into a little yard, thick with leaves and dead grass. A few large trees framed a tiny cabin with a wraparound porch and a chimney sticking out of the roof. It was lovely, I had to admit, even if it was a little neglected.

We got out, Tom fumbling with his keys as I made my way up the walk. He hurried to catch up with me, sticking a few in the lock before he found the right one. With a muted moan the door swung open, admitting us inside.

It was dark and quiet inside, a little dusty but not too bad. Tom flicked a light switch experimentally, and it turned on. "Hmm," he said, "I can't believe the power's still on. Must've slipped through the cracks or something."

_Only in a small town, _I thought.

I wandered through the house while Tom went around checking on this or that. There were two small bedrooms, one slightly larger than the other, a cramped bathroom, and a storage closet all grouped together at the end of a hallway. At the other end, to my delight, there was a study – complete with a desk, a fireplace, and bookshelves just waiting to be filled.

But it reminded me of Carlisle, and for a moment I could see him smiling at me from behind the desk, welcoming me in.

I shut the door quickly and moved to rejoin Tom.

"You can see it needs some cleaning up," he was saying, "but there's nothing wrong with it. Wiring and plumbing is good – I checked it myself. You won't have to worry about the roof leaking, either."

I wandered from the tiny kitchen to the living room. "I'll take it," I said.

He paused in the middle of another explanation why I should buy here, and blinked at me.

"You do know your nearest neighbor's eight miles away," he said, "and you saw how far you are from town. You'd be mighty isolated out here."

"That's what I'm looking for," I said lightly, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

He looked torn between being thrilled at having finally sold the property, and guilt for letting me do it. "You sure?"

"Show me what to sign," I said.


End file.
